


and we'll blow the little dickhead up to smithereens

by xcarebearx



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Minor Violence, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29184939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xcarebearx/pseuds/xcarebearx
Summary: Ryan is NOT gay. Not one bit.
Relationships: Ryan Magee/Matt Watson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	and we'll blow the little dickhead up to smithereens

**Author's Note:**

> hiii i've been obsessed over this concept for a few days and I originally wanted to draw it but then realized it would be better in fanfic format so here we are :) its my first time posting so idk if its really good but whatever
> 
> also the title is a lyric from "getting naked, playing with guns" by AJJ

“I mean… I could take care of it real quick,” Matt set the controller down on the crowded coffee table, pushing his mic away from his spot on the couch. 

“What?” Ryan turned back to face him, just about to leave for the bathroom. Playing shitty porn games on Newgrounds really didn’t pay off this time. Of course, it’s not like he could control how his body responded, it just happened. And now Matt had pointed it out- but he didn't really think it was funny. 

“I’m just saying,” Matt nervously played with his hands in his lap. “I’ll turn the recording off. No one has to know…right?”

“The fuck are you talking about, Matt?” Ryan laughed it off, thinking he was just making another dumb gay joke.

“No, no, really, I- I don’t want you to be embarrassed or anything. You don’t have to go fix it like, alone, I guess?”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Dude, is this a bit?”

The question alone seemed like it offended Matt. “No, come on, really. I’m offering, genuinely. Like, what's the harm, you know?” His voice was defensive. Desperate, almost.

He stared at the blonde for what felt like an eternity. “Offering what?” He asked, his voice lowered quite a lot from his usual tone.

Matt’s body language shifted- more confident in himself, which was a rare sight alone. “I mean, whatever you want, right? My gag reflex is kinda bad, but it's nothing I can't deal with."

Ryan gestured to the laptop sitting on the coffee table. "Pause it."

Matt quickly hit the spacebar on the laptop, before also unplugging both of their mics for extra measure. He smiled, looking up at Ryan like he was awaiting his next command.

Ryan let a few more moments pass for stepping towards him. "You're serious?"

Matt nodded with a doglike enthusiasm. “Please?” When Ryan didn’t respond, Matt just pushed harder. “Come on, Ryan, just this once? What’s the worst that could happen?”

A very small, microscopic part of Ryan felt guilty for leading him on like this. Enabling him. The kid was practically begging, to the point where it was almost sickening. He knew how Matt felt about him- despite how poorly he tried to hide it- and it really fucking creeped him out. He only hadn’t mentioned it because he assumed Matt would eventually grow out of it, not grow more confident in himself with time. 

Something in him snapped when Matt reached for the hem of his basketball shorts. Without thinking, he latched onto Matt's scrawny wrist and threw him to the floor by his feet. Matt’s face hit the coffee table before his knees hit the ground, leaving a slight spotting of blood on the glass and the hardwood floor when he managed to lift his head again. His glasses shattered on the way down, a few stray pieces digging into Matt’s face. He groaned, more like a pathetic whine, and turned to look up at his best friend. He looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“W-why … did you do that?” He squeezed his eyes shut, starting to feel the pain of his now even more fucked-up nose. 

“Because I’m not a FUCKING faggot, that’s why.” Ryan raised his voice, letting his anger wash over him. “I’d think any sane person would react that way to someone trying to fucking RAPE them, don’t you think?”

Matt held his bloody nose shut with a free hand, using the other to try and push himself back upright. “I wasn’t- I-”

“You really think I haven’t noticed you sniffing my clothes and stealing my shit like a fucking freak?” Ryan kicked his abdomen, rolling him over onto his back. “Motherfucker, I KNOW you’ve been trying to get at me since day fucking one. You ever consider how that feels? No?”

He tried to cover his stomach with his hands, to little avail he was kicked again, and a third time. “S-stop, Ryan,” He whined, curling in on himself like a wounded animal.

“Get my fucking name out of your mouth, idiot,” Ryan stepped over his body and grabbed a handful of his bleached hair, forcing Matt to look at him. “You think you deserve me? Seriously? You really just decided that you were the person I’d eventually come around to?”

Matt swallowed a sob, but his cheeks were already shiny with tears. It’s not like he could hide it. “N-no,” He conceded, refusing to make eye contact with Ryan. "I just-"

“Then what the FUCK did you think you were doing, huh? Making a fucking fool out of yourself?”

Matt didn’t answer his question. “Please, Ry-” ‘

“NO.” He interrupted, his voice automatically dominating over Matt’s weaker voice. “You don’t get to fucking beg for mercy. This is YOUR fault.” He let go of Matt's hair, dropping him back onto the floor. 

Matt tried to crawl away from him, but he didn't have much luck. Ryan's foot hit his side and knocked him over, then he quickly took hold of one of Matt's arms to stop him from escaping.

"Where do you think you're going?" He dragged Matt back towards him, pushing a mic stand out of the way and throwing him over the arm of the couch. He was almost too easy to manhandle, underweight for his height, and extremely fragile.

"Bathroom-" Matt quietly choked out, still trying to get himself up. "I feel- I think I'm gonna throw up…"

Ryan let out a rather annoyed sigh, and once again grabbed onto a tangled handful of blonde hair. Matt finally started putting up a fight, kicking and whining for him to stop, but it wasn't particularly effective as Ryan easily dragged him to the small bathroom right outside their recording room.

Once he let go, Matt desperately scrambled over to the toilet, but only managed to cough up a little bit of blood. "I'm sorry," He muttered under his breath, wiping a thin line of red spit from his chin.

Ryan just stared at him from above, lighting a cigarette in his mouth. "What was that? Speak up, dumbass."

“I’m sorry, okay?” Matt snapped at him.

Ryan leaned down and blew a cloud of smoke in his face. “Don’t ever try that shit again. You know what’ll happen.” 

“Why are you so mad about it?” Matt asked after a long silence.

“Why the fuck would you think I want to touch you? It’s fucking dehumanizing.”

“Would it be different if I was a girl?”

Ryan didn’t respond, just continuing to stare at him. “Are you fucking hard right now?”

Matt quickly covered his lap with his hands. “No.”

“Oh my god, you are,” Ryan laughed, an unhinged, mean-spirited laugh that was very unlike his usual tone. “You like getting beat? Is that your fucking kink or something?

“Ryan, stop it,” Matt’s voice was defensive. “Please.”

“God, you’re such a fucking weirdo. You know that right? You need whatever this is beat out of you. Should be more grateful that I'm looking out for you.”

“Stop it,” He repeated, more forcefully. 

"Why? What are you gonna do about it?" Ryan snickered.

"Fuck you," Matt used the side of the bathtub to pull himself up onto his feet. "I'm going home."

He shrugged, letting Matt almost get to the open door frame before grabbing onto his arm and pressing the butt of his cigarette hard against his skin. He yelped like a hurt dog, trying desperately to pull his arm away. Ryan just laughed, clearly now having a good time.

“You think I’m gonna let you leave?” He teased.

“Let GO,” Matt demanded. With his free hand, he weakly pushed against Ryan’s chest.

Ryan kicked the bathroom door shut. “Come on, you fucking fairy, you can take it.” He yanked on Matt’s arm, his rough grip leaving his skin red, even bruised in some spots. He pushed Matt backward, making him stumble over the wall of the tub and fall in, his overgrown, skinny legs hanging over the edge. He groaned, holding onto the back of his head, disoriented by the impact. 

Taking the opportunity, Ryan reached forward and pulled the shower handle. The pipes creaked and suddenly drenched Matt with freezing cold water. Matt gasped as if he couldn’t breathe, trying to move out of the way but too dizzy to even sit up. His dripping hair fell in a thin curtain, covering most of his face. 

Ryan watched, laughing to himself. He took out his phone and snapped a photo of Matt for his… personal collection before Matt blindly fumbled his hand onto the shower handle and turned it off. He pushed his hair out of his face, blinking the stinging tap water out of his eyes and glaring at Ryan. He muttered curses under his breath, shakily climbing his way out of the bathtub. 

His shirt was completely soaked, his jeans only from the knees up, but he was shivering cold, breathing heavily and desperately trying to tug the only towel they had in that bathroom out of Ryan’s grip.

“Ryan, come on,” Matt begged at his feet. “I won’t- I won’t do it again.”

“Quit being a pussy. It’s annoying.” Ryan kneeled down, grabbing Matt’s chin with rough hands, unkempt fingernails digging into his fragile skin. He scanned his face, picking a few stray pieces of Matt’s glasses out of his cheek.

Matt winced, but stayed still, leaning his back up against the bathtub. He was weak, and dizzy, and sore and he had not much fight left in him, let alone the energy to clean his own wounds. His arms lazily wrapped around his torso, trying to keep warm.

Ryan didn’t take his eyes off of him, despite Matt refusing to make eye contact. “You know I own you, right?” His voice was softer but still menacing.

“Huh?” Matt felt like he might have a concussion. Words were becoming hard to understand.

Ryan rolled his eyes. “I mean, you can’t really leave, can you? Look at you. You’re a pathetic, scrawny, weak little college dropout. I’m all you have left.”

“My head hurts...” Matt whined, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Of course it does.” Ryan brushed his damp hair out of his face. “You’ll be fine, kid. Gotta man up eventually. Come on, get up.” He tugged on Matt’s arm, pulling him onto his feet.

“Are you gonna…” Matt searched for the words in his head, but his mind was foggy. “Are you gonna tell on me?”

“What? Are you a fucking third-grader? I won’t ‘tell on you’, okay?” He mocked. “I guess you mean, am I gonna tell anyone you’re secretly a masochistic fag. I won’t, at least for now. But, let's get you some dry clothes, then you can take a nap on the couch. Sound good?”

Matt nodded. As long as Ryan stayed near him.


End file.
